Goodbye
by Pinto
Summary: This is the past, where Marco's mom 'died'. Befor


RRRRIIIIINNNNGGGGG!!! RRRIIINNNNN.....

The phone was cut off in mid-ring as Tom answered it.

"Yo." He said casually.

"Hi, is Jake there?" A voice asked on the other end of the phone.

"Yep. Just a minute." Tom turned to me. "Jake, it's your friend Marco." Then he set the phone down on the counter and went to watch tv. I picked up the phone.

"Marco?" I asked him. "What's up?" I waited for a response."

There was a pause before he answered. "Umm...Jake, could you come over? We need to talk. Now." His voice was wavering and he was breathing hard.

I felt worried. "Marco, buddy, are you okay? You sound different."

He took a breath. "No...I mean yeah...uh, could you just please come over?" This wasn't like Marco.

"Sure, Marco. Consider me there. I'll see you in a little bit. Bye." I heard the other line click as he hung up. He didn't even say bye. Something was wrong. 

I turned around. "Tom, tell Mom and Dad that I went over to Marco's. I'll be back before supper."

I didn't wait for him to say anything. I quickly left the house and grabbed my bike. I hopped on and started riding as fast as I could.

What could be wrong? I had never heard Marco sound like that. He always had a joke or stupid comment. He sounded like he was extremely upset.

As I rode full speed into Marco's driveway, I dismounted and dumped my bike on the lawn. I jogged up the stairs and stopped at the door. I pounded on it, nervous to see what was wrong.

I heard steps coming to the door. Marco then opened it. I looked at him. His eyes were red and his face was pale, and damp with tears.

"Marco, what's wrong?" I asked fearfully. Marco was not one to cry.

He looked at me, his eyes hollow looking. "Come on in Jake."

I followed him in and sat on the couch next to him.

Then I repeated, "Marco, what's wrong?"

He looked down as a tear ran down his face. "Jake, this morning my mom was gone. She had left a note on the table..." He paused. "She said that she had gone down sailing. Last night."

I sat there shocked. "But Marco, there was a storm last night. A big one......" It sunk in then. The full force of it hit me.

Marco then continued. "I know. When they went down to look for her, they found the wreckage of the ship. All morning they looked for her. Finally, a couple hours ago, the head searcher told my dad that if they hadn't found her yet that they probably wouldn't ever find her....." He stopped. Tears were running down his face. "Jake, man, she's gone......" He slumped over and let out a sob. "She's gone."

My eyes were wide. I felt a lump in my throat. I had been close to Marco's mom. Why had she gone and done this? Why did she go sailing in a storm? It didn't make sense.

I put my arm on Marco's shoulders. "God, Marco. I-I had no idea.....I mean...." I couldn't find the right words to say to comfort him and myself. We sat there in silence, interupted only by an occasional sob.

Marco finally sat up. "Jake....my dad.....he's really taking this hard. Really hard. I don't know if he'll be able to handle it.." He wiped his eyes of the remaining tears. "When the searchers told him that they probably wouldn't find her, he lost it. He blew up at them. He started yelling and swearing at them to keep looking..." Marco's eyes were far off. "Then he went to the police, telling them to get more people out there looking for her. The guy told him that they had all possible resources out there. My dad left there and told me to come home and that he'd be back in a little while. I'm getting worried...."

"Don't worry, Marco. Your dad is a rational guy. He won't do anything out of line. He needed some time to himself." I looked at Marco. He was gazing onto no where. 

Anger filled me. Why had Marco's mom done this to her son and husband? How could she? What had gotten into her that she did this stupid stunt?

Afraid that I would say something that would make things worse, I left, telling Marco that it would be okay, that things would get better. He nodded, obviously not believing me. I needed to sort out my feelings about this.

I pulled my bike off the lawn and mounted, heading out into the sidewalk. I rode slower, not wanting to go home and tell my parents about this. They were fairly close friends with Marco's mom and dad.

As I went, my anger subsided. I had no right to get angry with Marco's mom. I didn't know the full story of why she had gone. There was probably some explanation of why she had left.

I also was sad. Marco's mom was one of the nicest people I'd known. She was funny and cool and just a great person. She was the reason Marco had his sense of humor. She was his inspiration.

While I was thinking, I pulled in our garage and propped my bike up on it's kickstand. I walked up the steps and pulled open the door, still sorting emotions.

When I was inside the house, my mom saw me.

"Jake, what's the long face for?" She glanced at me.

I looked up. "Mom, Marco's mom is probably....dead." When I said it, I realized that it was the full, true meaning. I had avoided that word, not knowing it.

My mom dropped the spoon she had been holding. Her eyes opened in shock. "What?!"

I avoided her eyes. "Yeah, last night, she went sailing in the storm. No one knows why. This morning they found a note saying she had gone sailing. They started a search for her and found the wreckage of the ship. The searchers say that there is a very slim chance that she's still alive out there."

My mom stood there a moment. "I can't believe it..." She mumbled. Then she bent down and picked up the spoon she had dropped.

"Mom?" I asked, interrupting her thoughts, "I'm really not that hungry tonight."

She understood. "You don't need to have supper if you don't want."

I then walked up the steps and trudged to my room. I walked to my bed and laid down on my bed.

It was in that position that I fell asleep, confused and sad.

  
  


All that week at school, Marco didn't come. Word got around school, and soon everyone knew that Marco's mom had drowned. School soon became monotone for me, each day a rerun of the last. By Friday, I came home, sick of school, wanting never to return.

When I came in the door, my mom told me that the memorial service for Marco's mom was going to be held on Sunday. We all would be going.

Saturday was one of the worst days of my life. I sat in my room, wondering how Marco was handling this. I didn't want to call, afraid that I would interrupt or upset Marco even more.

On Sunday, Tom, my dad and I dressed up in suits. My mom in a dress. We all left for the memorial at a loss for words. We all were good friends of Marco's family, and still couldn't believe what had happened.

The ride to the church was a silent one, no one wanting to say the wrong thing.

When we reached the church we walked in as a family. We found a pew and seated ourselves.

As I glanced around, I noticed that some kids from our school were here. Then I spotted Marco up in the front pew. He sat there with his dad's arm over his shoulders. I knew that this had to be hard for them.

The service itself was a beautiful one. It seemed perfect except for the reason of why we were having it.

I glanced at my mom a couple times during the service. She had tears running down her cheeks and he mascara, was running a little bit. My dad looked upset and so did Tom.

Soon the service came to a close, and the final hymn that we sang was Amazing Grace. At the end, I bit my lip to keep myself from crying.

Then we all filed out, and said our comforts to Marco and his dad.

As I passed Marco, I gave him a hug. He had been crying.

"Thanks for being there for me, man." He said with a slight smile.

I looked at him. "Marco, I'll always be there for you."


End file.
